


we'll burn that bridge when we get to it

by ziraseal



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, F/F, Modern AU, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, blep AU???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziraseal/pseuds/ziraseal
Summary: Once every twenty-one hours, the cat living in the alley behind Kwong's is allowed to turn back into a human. A good Samaritan takes her in, not knowing about her secret. Her curse.





	1. Chapter 1

It starts with something so cold― curling up in a ball and trying to fend off the nipping air with nothing but her willpower. Thank god she has fur, else this would be more difficult to bear. She doesn’t know how long she’ll last, but she prays to some forgotten thing in the sky that this will be over quick; and hopefully painless as well.

 

Asami is so hungry, too. Despite having been stuck with this… issue… for two years now, she doesn’t really know how to hunt in the city. When she manages to transform, she can steal enough from the corner store to fend off the growling in her stomach, but right now all she can do is try to find a rat that is equally shivering in the cold. And… hope that it’s too cold to run away from her?

 

On the plus side, she finds shelter in a cardboard box that she wouldn’t be able to fit in when taking on her larger form. It’s not warmer, but she knows that it might snow tonight, and better to take shelter in a box than hope that the snow won’t blow sideways beneath the awning of the restaurant. She curls into the corner of the box, pressing her small body up against the walls to conserve heat. 

 

Spirits forbid any other cats live in this alley. The last thing she can do right now is protect herself in a fight. Asami doesn’t even know how to properly communicate to other cats; their body language is so unique and unlike human gestures that she’s almost certain she’ll never properly pick it up. The scar splitting her ear is proof enough of that. 

 

_ If I so much as see someone else… I run. I don’t know if I have the strength, but I can’t defend myself, _ she thinks, tucking her nose into her tail.

 

The sting of the cold bites at her feet, and Asami closes her eyes to try and wish away the pain. She knows that this will be the end. All she wanted was to die as a human, like normal people, but now she must pass from this world as a cat. Funny how life worked sometimes.

 

_ CRASH! BANG! _

 

Like any other member of her species, Asami uncurls and jumps out of the box, running further down the alley and away from the noise. The jarring cacophony of car horns disorients her, and she hides behind a dumpster as metal crunches with metal and glass spills onto the street.

 

Her fur stands on end, her tail comically large. The former engineer flattens her body against the ground to keep from being seen. 

 

Two cars have gotten into an accident on the street adjacent to the alley. The wreck doesn’t look life altering, but the damage is still intimidating. The taxi has practically ripped the front bumper off of the old Ford, and the drivers immediately jump out of their cars to begin yelling at each other. 

 

Asami knows of the saying  _ “curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back” _ , and finds herself slightly amused as she creeps forwards, towards the accident. Perhaps it is adrenaline keeping her warm, but she has enough energy to ignore the cold and observe the scene.

 

“You ran a red light, and you expect me to pay for the damage?! Are you serious?!” a woman shouts.

 

The owner of the Ford has a slightly red face, and Asami’s feline nose is so powerful she can smell the alcohol from where she’s hiding. He stumbles a little bit and the woman instantly dials a number on her phone, holding him by the sleeve. 

 

“Hey, Lin… yeah, I know it’s late… yes, it’s an emergency. This drunk just hit my car and I need you to come and… Lin,  _ I know it’s late _ !”

 

There’s a pause, and Asami perks her ears as she hears a woman’s voice in the receiver of the cell phone.

 

“... thanks, I’ll keep him here until then. No, I won’t ‘rough him up’, you have nothing to worry about. See you in a few.”

 

The woman presses a button and lets go of the drunkard’s sleeve. She berates him for a few seconds before telling him to go sit in his car― and walks to the back of the taxi, where a girl is gently pressing a tissue to a boy’s bleeding nose. 

 

“I’m so sorry. I’ll give you my superior’s contact info if you would like to report this,” the driver says with shame.

 

The boy, his mouth muffled from the tissue, mumbles something along the lines of, “Ibs fine ma’am. I know ibs not your fault.”

 

“We don’t need to report this, but is there any chance you could call another taxi for us? Bolin and I are running late for an event.”

 

The driver whips up her phone before the other girl had even finished her sentence, hitting the number for a speed dial and grumbling into the phone, “Kai if you don’t get your butt down here I swear to the Spirits I will drop kick you so hard you’ll visit the Southern Water tribe.”

 

Asami slowly creeps forward, silently observing the wreckage. The drunkard is slowly coming to terms with what he has done, and within a few minutes the couple are sped along their way (the poor boy still bleeding from his nose). The taxi driver gently sits down on the curb as she waits for “Lin” to arrive, and Asami suddenly can’t help herself.

 

It’s an instinct, deep down. She isn’t sure if it’s a feline one or a human one, but she knows it’s a compassion that draws her towards the taxi driver. She can feel the stress radiating off of the woman, she can hear the taxi driver’s heart still fluttering from the shock of the crash. She thinks that her presence might calm this person down, and the former engineer has learned over the past two years that dangerous people have a dangerous smell― the taxi driver doesn’t have that aroma and it gives Asami the push she needs to creep forward. 

 

The cat approaches the woman, and lets out a soft mew.

 

The driver jumps a little in surprise, turning and looking down at Asami. Her dark brown skin harmoniously brings out her blue eyes, and something twitches in the former engineer’s heart. The taxi driver’s black hair is pulled back in a bun, but Asami can tell by the way strands are falling out from the sides that it’s a relatively short haircut. Much like the scar on the cat’s ear, the taxi driver sports two slashes down on her cheek that have slowly faded with time, yet it somehow calms Asami to see them. As though this woman has had her share of hardships. 

 

“Oh! Hello there!” the taxi driver smiles. “I hope I didn’t scare you… I can’t imagine you’re having a better night than I am, in this cold.”

 

Asami couldn’t agree more. She gently sniffs Korra’s outstretched fingers, and can smell some sort of hot sauce, and the lingering scent of noodles. When Korra’s fingers gently scratch her chin and whiskers, she melts― she understands why fellow cats love receiving pets from humans. 

 

“Are you all alone in this weather? Don’t see many feral cats downtown. You must’ve been thrown out recently, you have such a shiny coat… and there’s still a bit of muscle on you.”

 

_ You couldn’t be further from the truth, _ Asami thinks sadly.

 

The only reason her coat is shiny is because she manages to get showers in at the local homeless shelter when she  **_can_ ** transform back, and her muscle is from walking end to end of the city, since she doesn’t really have anything better to do. The taxi driver gently pets her, and Asami accidentally lets out a purr. 

 

“Hey! I have a little bit of dinner left in the car! Let me get it for you!”

 

_ Oh my Spirits, yes! Score! _

 

As the taxi driver riffles through the passenger seat, Asami swishes her tail back and forth in anticipation, letting out a few mews of curiosity as to what this woman could possibly have for her. By the time she’s found the food, a police car has pulled up to the wreck. The driver sets down the food (spicy teriyaki, but Asami would die before she complains), and talks to the officer about the wreck. A few years ago, Asami would have taken her time, but now she scarfs down as much of the food as she can, savoring the heat more than the flavor. 

 

“You want me to get a tow?” the cop, who Asami assumes is Lin, asks.

 

The taxi driver sighs, “No, I can drive her home and… I don’t know… call the shop tomorrow. I hope this chuckle over here has insurance.”

 

“Alright. I’m going to take this guy in and let him sober up in the cell. You get yourself a cup of hot chocolate and get some rest. Take tomorrow off.” 

 

The police officer walks past Asami without even noticing her. The driver sits back down and gives the cat a pat on the head.

 

“You’re like a little vacuum. You must’ve been pretty hungry, huh?”

 

_ Obviously _ .

 

Suddenly, there are hands picking her up and she’s tucked beneath a coat, pressed up against a chest despite being a fully grown cat. Instincts nag at Asami to squirm and struggle and run to safety, but she pushes down the fear as the taxi driver protectively cradles the cat’s head in her free hand. 

 

“I’m going to take you home. It’s way too cold for you, and I heard on the radio that it might snow. Just don’t pee in my cab, okay? Enough is already coming out of my paycheck if that drunk doesn’t cough up his insurance cash.”

 

The driver climbs in and lets Asami jump out of her coat, and into the backseats. For a brief second, she contemplates running out of the car and into safety. She’s never been taken in, in the past two years that she’s been dealing with this… problem, and the concept of trusting a human being with her secret gives her a lot of anxiety, if she’s being perfectly honest. But her full belly and the heater in the taxi cab stops her long enough for the driver to close the door and seal the deal. 

 

_ What am I getting myself into? _ Asami asks herself.

 

The cab lurches a little as the driver peels away from the curb and turns around, not caring about her driving despite the cop writing up a ticket nearby. “Lin” merely rolls her eyes, clearly used to this behavior from the woman who is taking in Asami. 

 

She shuffles through various radio stations as the cat places her paws up on the armrest of the door and watches the passing city. It’s also been two years since she’s been in a car, and something tugs at her when she realizes that this is a Satomobile. It makes her a little nauseous and a little nostalgic. 

 

“You’re going to like where I live! At least… I hope you do!” the driver says, glancing in the rearview mirror.

 

Asami isn’t sure why this woman is talking to her like she’s a person (even though she is occasionally), but she accepts that being adopted by a crazy-type is better than starving out in the cold. The problem is that she’s afraid she might answer back and spook the poor woman, who probably doesn’t need a cat like  _ her  _ in her midst. So, Asami lets out a few meows to keep up appearances.

 

“Don’t worry, the ride is almost over. Oh shit! I hope you’re okay with dogs… Naga was fine when I introduced her to Kya’s cat, so I think she’ll be okay with you. I didn’t think this through. Maybe I’ll keep you in my bedroom tonight and let the two of you get used to each other’s smell?”

 

If cats could roll their eyes, Asami would. She gently climbs between the seats so that she can curl up in the taxi driver’s coat in the passenger seat, too tired to keep standing her way through the car ride. 

 

The driver smiles and reaches out a hand to gently scratch behind Asami’s ear, saying, “You know society considers black cats to be unlucky, but you have a good look about you!”

 

_ Really? I’ve gone through two years of hell, and I’m more than willing to accept that superstition. I’m the unluckiest person in Republic City.  _

 

Ten minutes later, and a lot of random ramblings from the taxi driver, Asami finds herself at an apartment complex sandwiched between the river and the railroad. Before she knows it, she is gently being scooped up once more and carried up a flight of stairs. She lets out a sharp yowl at the way the woman painfully clutches her hind leg and accidentally digs her claws into her neck. 

 

“Ow! Geez, okay! You’re not as polite as I thought you were,” the taxi driver groans, shifting Asmai in her arms as she attempts to unlock the door. Behind it, a series of barks practically shake the door, to which the woman mutters, “You’re not helping Naga.”

 

_ If you didn’t want my claws in you, you’d learn how to hold a cat properly, _ Asami thinks. 

 

The driver pushes open the door and holds Asami high above the slobbering Samoyed, who sniffs the feline in her arms and begins barking again.

 

_ God, if I wasn’t a dog person before… _

 

“Naga! No! Go to your bed!”

 

The giant white fluff-cloud-thing reluctantly makes its way to the bed, well trained and knowing that it needs to listen to its owner. The taxi driver gently sets Asami down and closes the door, and that seemed to be enough permission for Naga, who instantly charges at the cat.

 

_ Oh shit! Oh shit! _

 

Asami runs beneath the Samoyed’s belly and over the coffee table before settling with the couch as a good hiding spot. The dog continues barking and pawing at the carpet in frustration before the taxi driver can pull it and the bed into the bathroom. 

 

“You’re going to stay there tonight until you calm down!”

 

Suddenly, the taxi driver is flat on her belly, peering beneath the couch. Asami freezes up, cat instincts taking over human ones as she digs her claws into the carpet.

 

“Come on out, kitty. She’s not going to bother you again. At least, not tonight.”

 

But Asami doesn’t move, still too scared. She tries to access the rational side of her that said she’s safe, but she’d gone through so much in one day that she needed a breather― and the hiding place this couch is providing is practically sanctuary at this point.

 

“Suit yourself. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

 

It takes Asami a few minutes to relax, and reassure herself that she’s not actually in any danger. When the taxi driver’s back is turned, she glances up at the clock― she has an hour before she can transform, and she needs this woman to be asleep before then so that she can efficiently manage her time. She climbs up onto the couch’s arm and sits there as she watches the woman stumble around the apartment. 

 

Something aches in her at the thought of a normal life, like this woman clearly has. Who knew she’d be so nostalgic over pajamas and brushing teeth? This woman doesn’t really wear normals sleepwear, instead opting for sweats and a hoodie, and brushes her teeth for exactly thirty seconds before swishing listerine in her mouth and calling it good. Asami observes her plugging her phone into the wall charger and checking that the doors are locked before gently stumbling towards the bedroom.

 

“Come here, kitty! Come on!”

 

Asami wishes that this woman wouldn’t talk in such a patronizing manner to her, and yet she finds it slightly endearing, slowly and curiously jumping down from the couch and inspecting the bedroom. Without an invitation, she jumps on the bed.

 

“Yeah, you were clearly a housecat at some point,” the woman laughs. 

 

The cat ignores her, sitting down at the foot of the bed and accepting a final scratch on the head before the taxi driver cocoons herself under the covers. It takes Asami a minute to realize that the bed is covered in items. From a laptop to a box of cheese crackers to various textbooks, she is clearly single and had made a nest out of her room. Asami supposes it was a comfy way of living, if a little untidy. 

 

Her rescuer flips off the lights, and within a few minutes she’s peacefully snoring. The cat can hear her heartbeat slow down to a steady, relaxed rhythm and chooses then to shift back.

 

Were the taxi driver to open her eyes, she would see a human woman now sitting at the foot of her bed, running her hands through long, scraggly black hair. Asami takes a deep breath and fights back tears of frustration as she stands and gently leaves the bedroom. As quietly as she could, the former engineer tiptoes through the kitchen and picks up the taxi driver’s wallet, first checking her license.

 

Korra Ratava. She’s only a year younger than Asami, and still full of so much life and happiness compared to the shapeshifter. She holds the licence to the moonlight streaming through the living room window for another moment before carefully putting it back in the exact tab she’d pulled it from. She then checks how much cash Korra had on her.

 

Fifty dollars. She would likely notice if Asami took it from her, and she hesitates for a moment before putting the money back in. Asami knows that it’s a shitty thing to steal from someone who’s provided her both food and shelter in the name of kindness, and she knows that such behavior is how she got here in the first place― even if it wasn’t her fault. 

 

She walks over to the fridge and opens it to find a pack of bacon in one of the plastic drawers. Asami ignores the tempting smell as she grabs a few slices and slowly makes her way to the bathroom. When she opens the door, Naga is so eagerly sniffing her hands that she forgets Asami is an “intruder”. 

 

“That’s it. Good girl, that’s a good girl,” Asami mutters, closing the bathroom door behind her. 

 

She lets Naga smell her clothes― somehow still as clean as the day she was cursed― and take in her scent. As far as she can tell, she possesses a similar scent in her cat form, judging from territory fights where she’d lived as both human and cat. Asami continues feeding the dog treats in the hope of earning her trust and approval before gently pulling the dog into the living room so that she can take a bath.

 

Asami can hear Korra snoring, even with the doors muffling the apartment, and lets out a long, heavy sigh. She turns the water to a light, quiet drizzle and lets out a soft moan at the heat, stripping her clothes. A watch lying on the counter that must belong to Korra makes it’s way into her hand as she sets a limit for herself of fifteen minutes. 

 

She uses Korra’s body wash and shampoo and prays to the Spirits that the taxi driver won’t be able to tell. It’s just been so long since she’s been clean and she revels in it. For a moment, she leans back in the bathtub and lets herself be a human. And it feels so good that she realizes that she’s crying. 

 

“I hate this,” she says aloud. “Hey Spirits, if this curse could fucking stop, that would be great.”

 

Asami is met with naught but the sloshing of water in the tub, and the gentle whining of Naga at the door, clearly interested in more treats. She carefully unplugs the drain and winces at the loud, gurgling noise that it makes as she cleans up the mess. Each bottle is meticulously returned to the exact spot she pulled it from, and she’s sure to throw the towel she used into the hamper, rather than leaving it laying around. She pulls her hair out of the drain and picks dirt off the floor from her shoes. 

 

She just doesn’t want to burden Korra with this secret, not to mention she doesn’t really know anything about this woman. Who’s to say she’s not secretly an axe murderer?

 

A pause at the mirror, and a flick of the second bathroom light just to look at herself. Even in human form, her ear is still split at the top. She hasn’t worn makeup in two years but… well… she still looks hauntingly beautiful. Asami borrows Korra’s hair brush for a few minutes before pulling her hair back into a ponytail and taking one last look in the mirror.

 

There’s nothing she can do about the dark circles under her eyes, but they don’t show up when she takes on the form of the cat, so it hasn’t really bothered her in months. 

 

She slips out of the bathroom after turning off the light, pushes Naga back in (to keep up appearances), and walks into the kitchen. Knowing that Korra will try to feed her cat food in the morning, Asami carefully grabs a Gatorade and a bag of grapes out of the cupboard to munch on, glancing out at Yue Bay from Korra’s living room. By the time the clock reads 12:05, she’s feels the uncomfortable tug, standing and putting the food away before the curse forces her to become a cat once more for the next twenty-one hours. She curls up on the foot of Korra’s bed, the taxi driver none the wiser about her activities, and lets out a soft purr as the warmth of the bed causes her to drift away.   

 

Asami doesn’t know why, but she feels safe here. Maybe she’ll stay a little while longer.  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied thoughts of self harm/suicide, nothing too intense

 

Korra sinks further into the plush office chair and sighs, “So…. two thousand for the body and how much for the new tires?!”

 

The  _ Varrick Global Taxi Services™  _ legal representative types a few more factors into the calculator on her computer, leaning forwards and adjusting her glasses, “Eight hundred for the tires.”

 

“And… he’s going to pay for it, right?”

 

“Yes, but our company needs to fine you for the accident.”

 

Korra lets out a disgruntled noise, “But it wasn’t my fault! He was drunk and he ran a red light!”

 

“And the company recognizes that, but this is the third accident you’ve been in within the past two years, and the second in which a passenger has been injured. You have five strikes before you’re employment with the company must be terminated, and it states within the company policy that you agreed to upon employment that you would be fined after three accidents― article seven, section two. I’m assuming you still have a copy of the paperwork?”

 

“Somewhere in my apartment,” she says, scratching the back of her neck and shrugging. “How much is the fine?”

 

“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”

 

_ Okay… so no grocery run today. Spirits, _ she thinks to herself.

 

“Is there anything else?” Korra respectfully asks, knowing that there’s no point in taking her frustration out on this woman. “Any paperwork?”

 

“No, I think you can show yourself out.”

 

She zigzags her way through the rather crummy office building and snatches up a raspberry filled powdered donut from the staff lounge while it’s still empty. The keys to Kai’s car get stuck in her pocket. The donut leaves a smudge of white sugar on her cheek just as the one other female cabbie walks past. She knocks over her bottle of water when she sits down. It’s a normal night, but Korra still feels depressed. 

 

And the worst part is she knows that they’re trying to shift the blame to her because that’s just what people in this world do. Somehow it’s her fault because despite having been at the company for two years she’s still one of the new employees, and she suffers with consequences not owed to her. At least Kai is letting her borrow his car.

 

Something soft and heart-lulling blossoms from the radio, and she turns the volume up. Korra lets the world blur around her and wishes that she’d taken another day off― goodness knows that one day away from work isn’t enough to sate the appetite for isolation. 

 

Then again… she wishes she had a friend. Or two. There’s a love within her for being alone, with a book or a movie and some hard apple cider, but she hates being lonely. 

 

A thundering, familiar rhythm meets her ears when she slowly climbs out of the driver’s seat after parking, and Korra walks down to the river― not bothering to put on a jacket or tie her loose laces on her right sneaker. 

 

Spirits, the air has a cold bite to it.

 

Korra steps across the train tracks and crosses an abandoned lot, pushing the fence open like she used to do when she actually invited people over; and they would all go down to the river to drink. Before the incident. She even expects to look up and see them, but she’s met with the silence of the mouth of Yue Bay at night time― pitch black waves lapping up against driftwood, a car passing by once every ten minutes, and perhaps a small bonfire somewhere a cop won’t find the perpetrators.

 

Sure, there are other people out on the shore, scattered here and there, but it doesn’t make Korra feel as though she has company. They’re all too far for her to even tell what color their jackets are. 

 

None of this makes her feel like less of a failure for wrecking the taxi cab, despite the fact that, in reality, it wasn’t her fault. 

 

She actually considers it tonight. It’s in the back of her mind, and that alone brings tears to her eyes because she was so good about it for the past two years. Korra was certain that, since she’d already tried once, the want would never come back, and that denial has caused her to ignore the feelings building up. 

 

It’s laughable, really. People like to joke and say “oh, you don’t want to know what the voices inside of my head say!” but no one is willing to admit that you’re your own voice. And Korra hates them for it, because she has to sit and think about how her brain is telling itself that she’s in between an active, commercial railroad track and a very cold ocean. For a brief minute she isn’t sure if she hates the world or herself more. 

 

Dammit, Korra thought she was getting better after all this! What good were all those recovery sessions with Katara if she was just going to― 

 

A meow interrupts the cacophony. 

 

She turns her head and finds the little black cat that she’d rescued two nights ago slowly walking up to her, and all at once feels guilty. If she were to… if she’d listened to those thoughts, who would take care of this little guy? Or Naga?

 

“Hey there.”

 

Another mew as the cat gently rubs against her leg. Korra reaches down and picks up her newfound friend, smiling and scratching behind the cat’s ear. 

 

“I need a name for you. Um… it can’t be a human name, cause I always find those so weird. But I don’t want to call you Shadow, because every black cat is called that. Or Panther.”

 

If possible, it’s almost as though her new friend is giving her a look.

 

Korra laughs, “Okay, well, how about Inky? Midnight? Teryaki?”

 

Another mew erupts from the cat, and it settles itself in Korra’s lap. She still isn’t sure that that’s the correct choice, and she glances across the bay before settling on a name:

 

“How about Gizmo?”

 

The cat let out a purr as she jumps off of Korra’s lap and trots across the train tracks. Korra quickly follows, surprised at herself for looking both ways before crossing. Maybe caring for this cat is the push she needed to actually care about herself. Gizmo lets out a series of talkative meows as Korra unlocks the front door, and she’s shocked that Naga lets the cat pass without complaint, more eager to sniff the taxi driver.

 

“You two are settling in, huh?”

 

The breeze blowing into the living room feels unwelcome, and Korra closes the window that Gizmo must’ve snuck out of before turning back to the kitchen to make herself some dinner. She has her hand on the fridge handle when she pauses and turns.

 

When had her microwave suddenly started working again?

 

She slowly creeps towards it, unsure of if it is safe or not, and decides to grab the cup of unfinished coffee off the counter, placing it in for thirty seconds and backing away in caution. It rotates the cup like normal, and no laser death beams come out― exploding and melting everything in sight. When the machine beeps to signal that it’s done, she hesitantly walks forwards and retrieves the cup. 

 

“Huh… tastes fine. I could have sworn the microwave was broken this morning. Maybe Dad fixed it when he last came to visit and I’m just loosing it.”

 

She chuckles at her own joke and strips to her boxers in the kitchen, grabbing a banana for dinner and kicking her discarded clothes towards the bedroom door. Gizmo scampers into the bathroom and Korra cocked her head in amusement.

 

“What, you scared of boxers or something?”

 

Korra shakes her head and walks to her room, scratching Naga’s head on the way. She’ll save the edgelord thoughts for another night. 

  
  


  


  
  


When she’s sure Korra is asleep, Asami shifts back into a human and nervously chuckles in the bathroom. She hadn’t been expecting to see Korra so… exposed, and had hightailed it out of there. She supposes that she ought get used to this sort of thing― as Korra has no way of knowing that Asami is a person watching her walk around her apartment in her underwear, and thus has no way of knowing that she ought stop. 

 

_ It’s fine, chill out. It’s just a human body, and if you plan on living with this woman, you just have to get used to it.  _

 

She slithers into the kitchen and berates herself for having fixed the microwave last night― she hadn’t expected Korra to notice so quickly but she just wanted to help out around the house. Asami had quietly unplugged the device last night, grabbed tools from Korra’s closet, and stepped outside to tinker. It was a hobby that cleared her head, and goodness knows that sitting around as a cat all day left her with more than enough boredom to clog an imagination like a stuffy nose. 

 

There was some pride in being able to fix a microwave in an hour, and still have time left over as a human to do other things for herself before being forced to switch back. 

 

Tonight, though, Asami gently locks the apartment door with the spare key she’d found in one of the kitchen drawers, and throws one of Korra’s hoodies and hat on to keep warm. She crosses the street and wanders down the sidewalk with her hands in her pockets. With a temporary home to return to, exploring now has a sense of accomplishment to it, and she walks towards the nearby shops (albeit closed) with a smile on her face.

 

An open place called Colossus piques her interest, and she wanders inside to find that it’s a club without a waiting list. She’d nicked some money off of Korra’s counter before leaving, and buys herself a drink for the first time in a year.

 

She does feel bad about using Korra for her money and apartment, and as she takes a sip, she thinks about what she could do to show her gratitude. 

 

Realistically, there’s no way for Asami to make money if she can only be human for three hours of the day. And it’s not like she can do much as a cat but be a fuzzy companion (not to mention Korra already has a dog).

 

_ She took you in. If she wanted you gone, she would have put up a Craigslist ad by now. Stop worrying so much. _

 

The alcohol gives a burn that Asami secretly craves, but she didn’t grab enough cash for another drink. It’s just as well. The last thing she wants to do is drunkenly stumble into Korra’s apartment and announce to the poor taxi driver that she’s the missing former CEO of the world’s most famous bankrupt (and extinct) engineering company. The thought causes her to pull Korra’s beanie down further to hide her hair. 

 

It takes her fifteen minutes to realize that Colossus is a gay club. She doesn’t mind, it just surprises her when a woman offers to buy her a drink and she notices all the couples. 

 

“Sorry,” Asami smiles, “I’m not in a good place right now for anything, so it’s probably not worth your time.”

 

The woman gives her a kind smile and nods, “Suit yourself. I’ll be here tomorrow if you change your mind.”

 

As the woman walks away, Asami realizes that it’s the first time she’s had a conversation with another human in a month, and it lasted five seconds. She shakes her head and sets the glass down, walking out of the club and back into the cold air.

 

She has an hour and a half left now, but she doesn’t really feel like doing anything. Just being human is relaxing enough. There’s a firm horn that echoes across Yue Bay as a cargo ship pulls up to the docks, where Asami used to have a warehouse for her company. She smiles at the thought and kicks a piece of driftwood around as she thinks of the good old days before the curse. 

 

_ I’m not fooled for a second what Korra was thinking about when she came out here. I need to keep an eye on her. She deserves better than to do that to herself.  _

 

Something in her stomach feels a little nauseous, and she knows that she hasn’t had alcohol in a while. She wonders if it will mess up her body as a cat, but has figured in the past two years that whatever she eats as a human doesn’t really transfer over as a cat, and vice versa. It makes things frustrating because she can find food as a cat easier than as a human, and usually when she transforms she’s hungry, but now that she lives with Korra she can grab a bite in the kitchen. 

 

She pulls out her wallet. It’s the only thing, besides her clothes, that she doesn’t loose when she transforms. Inside is a photo of her parents and the key to the Sato estate, both safely tucked away in a pocket that she hasn’t touched in two years. Besides that, there’s the money that she took from Korra and the key to her new “owner’s” apartment.

 

_ Hmm… it’s a little weird to call her my owner. Patron? No, to professional. Foster parent? Calling her “mom” would be weird, I’m older than her! Maybe a friend, but I don’t know how long I’ll be here. I might have to jump ship if she starts suspecting anything. Boy, I really should just live in the forest. Maybe an Air Temple would take me in. _

 

Asami chuckles aloud at her thoughts and shakes her head a little. The wind nips at her cheeks and she buries her face in the hoodie, taking a deep breath and smelling something akin to cedar and very good cologne. In the past two years, her human nose has improved somewhat, thanks to all the time she’s spent as a cat. And though her eyesight isn’t nearly as enhanced as it is when she’s transformed, she still manages to perfectly weave her way back through the bushes and fences that she wouldn’t be able to do if she were normal.

 

But then she thinks of everything else she was forced to give up, and it hurts. It fucking hurts and she doesn’t know what she did to deserve this. 

 

It’s not enough to say, the world is a cruel place. 

 

Developing an illness is a cruelty, or losing your house in a storm. Those are natural cruelties that one can move on from. But Asami doesn’t deserve this. The Spirits convicted her of someone else’s crime, and she has no way of fixing the problem because… well… people don’t really believe in the Spirits anymore, so there aren’t really temples in the city that she can get to. Maybe, if she were to go to the countryside, she could come across something― but she would have to either prepare for a trip, or convince Korra to take her. 

 

Which would mean she would have to trust Korra with this secret.

 

And how the hell do you tell someone something like this? She can’t exactly sit the woman down and explain it, considering Korra hasn’t met Asami. She can’t just shift from Gizmo to a human right in front of Korra― she’d give the taxi driver a heart attack! Maybe she could leave a note? 

 

No. No. It was better to just keep this in secret. Korra didn’t need to deal with this. So long as she kept going to bed at her usual schedule, Asami could sneak out every night and try to establish some sense of normalcy. It could become a routine, a life even. She didn’t need to burden Korra just so that she could be happy. 

 

Even if it did suck. 

 

Asami unlocks the door very, very quietly. Naga whines but doesn’t bark, and Asami rewards her with a treat before locking the door behind her and slipping off her shoes. She puts Korra’s hoodie and beanie back into the closet and walks into the bedroom. 

 

Realistically, she doesn’t need to sleep in here. She contemplates sleeping on the couch tonight, but Korra had already put a folded blanket out for her, and Asami’s willpower crumbles. She shifts before her time is fully up, jumping up onto the bed and curling onto the blanket without a second thought.     

 

In the morning, Asami’s shoes sitting by the doormat confuse the hell out of Korra― she can’t remember the last time she had someone visit, and how the heck do you forget your shoes?! But she shrugs, too late for work to figure it out, and supposes Naga had dragged them out of the closet. 

 

Little by little, the environment within the apartment was changing, and yet settling into something so peacefully quirky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat is just some clip art to let you know the scene has changed. I might use it in the future. At any rate, tell me how the story's going so far? I'm slowly drawing an outline, and I think I know how I plan to end it :D
> 
> Sidenote: Korra's thoughts revolving suicide are based off my own experiences. I don't mean to hurt anyone in any way.
> 
> Leave comments!


	3. Chapter 3

She honest-to-Spirits hates when Korra cooks. Not because it’s messy, or smelly, or seems like it tasted awful― but for the exact opposite. Korra stirs away at the soup, adding sauces and spices and something that can’t possibly be a vegetable and Asami sits on the counter, her tail swishing back and forth in frustration. Another round of pepper is thrown into the pot.

 

 _What I would give to have a bowl of that_ , she thinks to herself.

 

Korra spins and sways her hips to the tune of some song that was in fashion when Asami’s parents were newlyweds, and even the way she chops up some obscure Southern Water Tribe fish has a dance to it.

 

“Gizmo” lets out a meow for attention, and Korra tosses a scrap of cooked meat her way. She eagerly crunches down, and Asami savors the sugar and spices embedded in the scrap.

 

“You like that? Maybe I’ll cook you food, too, someday. When I have money. For now, you’ll stick with lovely wet, canned food,” the taxi driver smiles, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “Goodness knows I should just let you out to hunt, but I need to train you to come back and eat here first, so that you don’t pull a runner on me.”

 

_No worries, I’ll just help myself to your fridge tonight._

 

Asami adores the care, however, even if she won’t admit it aloud. And she’s not planning on taking a lot of food. She just really, really wants a bite. She even gets close to the pot before Korra swats her away with a laugh, pushing her further down the counter where she inspects the cutting boards (her whiskers catch a few flecks of sauce).

 

“No, no, you’ll burn yourself. And I don’t want hair in this! I’m having a guest over tonight!”

 

“Gizmo’s” tail swishes and her ears twitch, though she continues inspecting the cutting board as though she didn’t hear Korra. She wasn’t expecting that, and if this guest stays over for the night… Asami can’t really risk transforming in the apartment. Korra tosses Naga a piece of fish (the floor shakes a little as the dog lands back on her feet), and begins tidying up the living room while the soup simmers.

 

Boy, she’s human on the inside, but she understands why literally everyone who isn’t a human is afraid of vacuums. They’re already loud when you have weakling people ears, but the noise is amplified tenfold as a feline. Asami and Naga both trot away from the kitchen, whining and meowing alike. When she’s certain that Korra’s looking the other way, Asami decides to help out by picking up a shirt on the carpet and dragging it towards the bedroom with her mouth.

 

“Gizmo, what are you doing?” Korra laughs, turning off the vacuum and picking Asami up by her stomach (very humiliating). “Leave my stuff alone. Go play outside.”

 

She plops “Gizmo” on the windowsill and pats Asami on her hindlegs to leave.

 

A swish of her tail once more, to signify her annoyance, and she jumps down into the bushes, letting her paws sink into fresh earth. It’s not as cold tonight, but a blanket of clouds covers the skies. She glances back up and realizes with a silent, internal groan that the window has been closed small enough that she cannot jump back up.

 

So, Asami turns and trots down the railroad, deciding that she’ll find dinner elsewhere.

  


  


It’s pouring, and Asami runs through puddles as she weaves through the alleyways. Such carelessness reminds her of the first few weeks within the time she was cursed, when a storm had hit and she nearly drowned in the streets. She’d been saved by a kind, homeless man but had run off in fear. When she’d returned, as a human and with a few yuans to spare as a way of showing her gratitude, he’d left his spot.

 

This time she’s smart enough to keep safe― albeit soaked.

 

By the time Asami reaches the apartment, she’s miserable, and she scratches on the door as she howls dramatically (that part she enjoys). Naga’s barking isn’t even enough to deter her from her mission; within a moment she’s successful as Korra opens the door and scoops her up.

 

“Woah, you’re not as dry as I was hoping!” her human chuckles.

 

Asami finds herself plopped into the bathtub, a towel thrown on her head. Though her hearing is suddenly muffled, she picks up something along the lines of “I’ll be just a minute, Jinora!”

 

“Take your time!” a new voice calls back.

 

Korra kneels down to the bathtub and begins rubbing the towel, ungracefully, all over Asami’s fur. She understands why house cats have such attitude, for this is rather embarrassing, but finds herself dry after a few minutes. Though her fur is still damp, she’s not nearly as cold, and she realizes with a shock that Korra has just pressed her forehead to the top of the cat’s head.

 

“All clean!”

 

The affection stuns Asami, who’s been without real contact for a very, very long time. A moment passes… and she almost feels human. Truly human. Korra pulls away and with a purr, Asami leaps over the edge of the tub and follows her human back into the living room.

 

The girl sitting on the kitchen counter is young in age and old in wisdom, and it causes Asami’s back to arch― her fur to stand on its end. She doesn’t know what the deal is with this person, but the moment those brown eyes bore into Asami’s, she’s almost certain that “Jinora” knows who “Gizmo” really is. She’s clearly Air Nation in origin, and if anyone in the city still prays to and believes in the Spirits, it’s very much this girl.

 

But then the girl’s inquisitive look drops, and she smiles at Asami’s human, “That’s a cool cat you have, when did you get her?”

 

The cat slowly relaxes as Korra recounts how she rescued her from the cold.

 

“... so I guess a good thing came out of the accident, even if I have to pay money to the company, and there’s a permanent slash on my record. I love this little rascal!”

 

Jinora’s eyes quickly dart at “Gizmo”, “And she doesn’t fight with Naga?”

 

“It’s like they became friends overnight!” Korra says in wonder.

 

“Strange. Almost a miracle, even.”

 

“Oh, don’t bother me with that Spirit stuff. You know I haven’t been to the temple in years.”

 

Jinora puts down her spoon, “That’s why I came here. Korra, I know your recovery has been hard, but I think that if you just came to see my dad, we could work through this funk you’re going through and―”

 

Korra interrupts her and they begin bickering, but Asami doesn’t follow their conversation as they get up and begin to do dishes. Perhaps Jinora can’t pick up on it, but her human is radiating a great deal of irritation; to which Asami responds by jumping on the counter and rubbing her head against Korra’s shaking hand.

 

“... listen, maybe you should get out. Go to the nearest club and just have a good time. Find someone and just relax. Have a few drinks and avoid the strobe lights.”

 

“Gee. A monk telling me to sin.”

 

Jinora shrugged, “I’m not a monk. I’m just a devout follower who qualifies for the responsibilities but chooses to abstain from the proper role. Technically, the advice I give you isn’t official. I’m giving it to you as a friend.”

 

“You’re cheating,” the other woman points out.

 

“I’ll be ready to be a monk when I’ve grown up a bit more. I want to explore other religions and learn them from an unbiased point of view so that I can come to help people without washing away their rightful beliefs.”

 

Korra shakes her head, “You’re far more of a grown up than most people in this city. I’ll come visit your family this weekend, but only because I miss your mom’s cooking.”

 

“That’s all I ask.”

 

When Korra is busy placing dishes in the sink, Jinora shoots another heavy glance towards Asami, who slowly backs up and flattens her ears in defense. She doesn’t want to believe that this woman might be dangerous, but there’s something so powerful in her eyes that the cat cannot ignore.

 

 _What if… she knows how the curse works?_ Asami wonders.

 

Perhaps being a devout follower of Air Nomad philosophy came with telepathy; for Jinora gives the cat a brief nod before smiling as Korra turns and walking towards the front door as though naught had transpired. They hug, and Asami lets out a mew when the lock turns and she knows Jinora is gone for good.

 

Korra walks over to her, scooping her up and holding Asami against her shoulder.

 

“Oh, Gizmo, what am I going to do with you? You know, I heard they eat naughty cats in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se!”

 

A mew in response. Korra laughs and shifts the weight so that she can push open the bedroom door.

 

“Is that so?” the taxi driver says, pretending as though they are having a conversation, “I’ll have you know, I bought the perfect seasoning for Feline Filet, as they call it. I just need to throw in a few vegetables and―”

 

Asami lets out another good natured yowl, pressing her forehead into the crook of Korra’s neck. Her human jumps onto the bed and they tumble around for a second before Asami pounces onto Korra’s stomach.

 

“Ouch! Damn, your claws are― ow, ow, OW!”

 

Korra adjusts the cat so that they are cuddling together, scratching her fingers behind “Gizmo’s” ears until Asami involuntarily lets out a pur, resting her head on her human’s chest and closing her eyes.

 

“I could fall asleep like this,” Korra murmurs in turn.

 

She hasn’t been much of a talkative cat before, but as Korra murmurs meaningless conversation to her, one sentence at a time, Asami retorts with sleepy mews until it’s clear enough to the taxi driver that the cat wants both of them to go to sleep now.

 

Korra reaches up and the light turns off, and Asami forgets completely that she could be up and about… but she doesn’t feel like getting up just yet.

  


  


When she opens her eyes, she realizes with a startled twitch that she’d shifted to a human in her sleep. Korra seems none the wiser that an entire person is lying on top of her, and Asami begins to wonder if the woman is somehow _catatonic_ if she so much as closes her eyes.

 

For a moment… Asami really doesn’t want to get up. Korra’s arm is wrapped around her waist, and their legs are intertwined, and she hasn’t felt this kind of safety since she used to climb into her mother’s bed after scary nightmares. But it’s not fair to her innocent, unknowing roommate, and so Asami slowly untangles from the warmth and murmurs a voiceless apology, pulling the covers over Korra.

 

The other woman rolls over in her sleep, and Asami freezes.

 

“... no, Tenzin, I don’t want to train today, it’s Sunday! Can’t we go see the Glacier Spirits festival this year?” Korra moans in her sleep.

 

Slowly taking a step back, Asami doesn’t even breathe as she notes every source of noise she makes. Korra rolls over again and pulls the blanket over her head. Asami takes the chance and silently slips out of the bedroom.

 

Unsure of how much time as a human she has left, the former engineer wanders into the kitchen and fixes herself a bowl of that soup Korra had been cooking earlier.

 

Though she had fixed the microwave, she eats the dish cold as to not disturb the taxi driver― she knows it’s not as good but she absolutely cannot jeopardize what she has solely for the sake of a little comfort. Naga wanders into the kitchen and Asami sinks down to the floor, offering the Samoyed a few bites. The dog then practically sits in her lap and she lets out a laugh, forgetting that she’s supposed to be quiet.

 

“I guess I don’t need to worry about you anymore,” she whispers. “We’ve grown on each other.”

 

There’s a buzz on the kitchen counter, and Asami reaches around blindly to find Korra’s phone resting directly above her. The taxi driver doesn’t even use a passcode, and though she feels a little bad for snooping, she’s smart enough to leave the text message unopened, opting for Korra’s social media instead. The bright glow of the phone makes Naga let out a _“boof”_ and press her face into the hoodie that she’s wearing. Korra has plenty of digital friends, and Asami even recognizes a few as members of famous sports teams in Republic City. She blinks in surprise when she realizes, after a little bit of digging, that Korra was on a team that Future Industries used to sponsor.

 

 _I don’t remember meeting her… though I suppose a lot of time has passed since I last talked to anyone. Sponsoring the team was Dad’s idea… I barely remember running the company_ , she thinks.

 

She doesn’t want to remember her father, though, and exits out of the app before setting the phone back on the counter.

 

Naga slowly rolls off of Asami with a groan, and though she’s only a few years old according to a passing comment made by Korra, the former engineer can’t help but compare her attitude to that of a cranky grandma. She finishes her cold but tasty soup and cleans the bowl so slowly and silently that it takes her ten minutes before she can stealthily put the piece of ceramic back into the cupboard.

 

Korra is still fast asleep when she tiptoes into the bedroom, already feeling the pull to shapeshift. Asami doesn’t really regret having wasted precious human time asleep and curled up to Korra, but worries if she climbs into the bed in this form she’ll most certainly wake up her human. The younger woman has a pillow underneath her arm to make up for the missing warmth of Asami, and the, albeit unconscious, gesture nearly brings another laugh to the older woman’s lips.

 

She shifts into her cat form and reluctantly curls up at the foot of the bed, knowing that when she wakes it won’t be the same.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys found what could possibly be the best pun I've ever made. At any rate, it seems like Asami is really getting settled into Korra's apartment, but there've been hints that... there's a lot more to this story than what we're seeing on the surface. 
> 
> I wonder what's going to happen... leave comments!


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Like most of her feline kind, she keeps her eyes closed and pretends to nap as Korra meanders around the apartment. Her ears are attentive and twitching, though, ready for any sign of danger. If the constant, boring ticking of the clock on the wall bothers her, she refuses to show it. If Naga’s smelly breath bothers her, she sticks her nose into her tail as she’s curled up on the couch. 

 

Her human, on the other hand, is genuinely sleepy. 

 

Korra lets out a happy yawn as she makes her coffee, and if Asami could raise an eyebrow in suspicion, she would. It’s nine-fifteen at night… what was Korra planning to do?

 

She needs to make her escape― she’s already pushing back her transformation, and she wants to hit the club again with some of Korra’s spare tip money. Asami opens her eyes and stretches her back with a silent groan. A jump off the couch, a trot across the carpet, and a few scratches at the door… and she’s free. Korra rolls her eyes as she shuts the door behind the cat, and if Asami had turned her head just so, she would have noticed her owner throwing a coat on through the window. 

 

But the cat is already behind a few parked cars, transforming and becoming a human. 

 

It’s strange how the world is suddenly less frightening, despite the loud music three floors up or the car alarm blaring across the street… perhaps it is a mixture of feline instincts and the comfort of being a human that makes her prefer this form.

 

That, and Asami is an actual person, with at least some sense of rationality. 

 

It doesn’t always feel that way, but she stuffs her hands in her pockets with a smile and turns on the ball of her foot― headed towards the bar she’d visited a few days prior.

 

She really should have paid attention to the door slamming far behind her. 

 

The lights are loud… the music is bright? No, no, everything is fine, she’s just tired. Asami has had a long day of napping and waiting around to become a human and she needs a drink, by the Spirits! The music, some pop song that she’d missed in her period of being cursed, makes her skull feel a little too small for her brain as her head throbs in pain. Asami slides a bill across the counter and receives a drink in turn, something bold and distracting from the harsh edge that life procures. 

 

Across from her, kind amber eyes give her a questioning look.

 

“Only someone who’s had a long day downs a shot in such a manner,” the bartender says. 

 

_ More like a long life _ , Asami thinks to herself. Instead of answering, she salutes the empty shot glass and rolls her eyes in good nature. 

 

The bartender is her age, she supposes, with spiky black hair and a bright red scarf wrapped around his neck. Asami wonders if he can even  _ feel  _ the heat inside this club. She pushes the glass back towards him and coughs up enough couch change (literally) to purchase another shot. 

 

The bartender smiles at her grimace, “Second drink is always the hardest.”

 

“Oh? Why’s that?”

 

He shrugs, “You’re properly prepared for the first shot. You’ve braced yourself. The second shot comes around and you think you can do it, because you’ve already done it once. Don’t think I didn’t notice that cringe.”

 

Asami smiles something genuine this time, and puts the last of her change in the tip jar before heading to the dance floor. 

 

Bodies twist and twirl all around her. The music feels far more concentrated in this area. The floor shakes and it causes nervousness within Asami. She swallows her fears and attempts to dance, ignoring the music and instead swaying in time with the crowd as though she is a piece of driftwood among the tide. People push up against her, not in a violent way, but in the manner that folks do in locations as…  _ sexual  _ as this one. Asami feels someone’s hips brush up against her backside and lets out a shaky breath― not only because she’s not used to the contact and doesn’t know who this person is, but because it felt so  _ good _ . 

 

She grinds back into the person, a woman by the hands clumsily on her hips. Warm breath that smells like alcohol is at her neck and her own lungs are caught by surprise. Asami closes her eyes and presses against the other girl. The drive pulsing from her core is something she’s been denied for so long that she turns and pulls the woman close to her, grinding her hips properly into the stranger’s.

 

The fingers at her waist firmly dig in, inviting her. Asami finally looks up and inhales sharply in shock.

 

“Oh my Spirits!”

 

A drunken Korra looks very, very confused and hurt as the former engineer hastily backs away and weaves through the crowd, her cheeks turning red.   

 

“Hey! Wait! I didn’t mean to... “

 

Her human’s voice trails off as she ducks through a hallway and out the backdoor, passing the bartender on his smoke break and giving him a curt nod before she hightails it around a corner. Korra has pursued her, it seems, as Asami hears her voice bounce off the walls of the alley. 

 

“Hey, Mako, did you see a girl run past just by? She freaked out on the dance floor and I want to make sure she’s okay.”

 

“Kor, you know I can’t tell you― company policy,” the bartender answers.

 

Asami hears a scoff.

 

“That sounds made up. I’m not trying to be a creep; she just looked, like, sick or something!”

 

_ Just drop it, you silly woman _ , the shapeshifter thinks. She ducks further behind the dumpster, giving her flashbacks of the day the taxi driver had rescued her.  _ Drop it and return to your dancing. The less you know about me, the better.  _

 

The shadow of something small flies across the wall opposite her; Mako having flicked his cigarette into the snow.

 

“Yeah, I saw her run past. I won’t tell you what direction, though. Sometimes people just need to run, Korra. You know that better than anyone.”

 

“Shame you weren’t this wise when we were dating,” the other woman retorts.

 

The two begin bickering as they head inside (Asami catches something about along the lines of “you owe me a free drink for last week’s ‘Lin’ incident”), and she relaxes. The alley leads out to the road, and she quickly stuffs her hands back into the warm pockets of her coat as she trots back towards the apartment. She has a whole hour left before she needs to shapeshift, but something within her feels off. 

 

Her heart is still beating with the same rhythm of the club music, and her body still feels warm and energetic― ready to dance. She’s still eager for the physical contact she allowed herself, but she  _ can’t _ . 

 

She can’t betray Korra’s trust more than she already has… and you know what? Asami isn’t even attracted to the taxi driver. She just needed to let out steam! It was probably not that big of a deal!

 

The door to the apartment swings open and she sneaks a treat into Naga’s hand as she closes it behind her and sighs. 

 

Working quick, she tipsily makes herself dinner and checks the news, even giving into the temptation and searching her name online. She wonders if people still remember her. A few hashtags here and there demanding justice― one or two people proposing that she was murdered by her father to keep mum about the scandals. A great deal, scattered across blogs, reminisce about Future Industries technology and how superior it was compared to Cabbage Corp or Varrick Global. It has become harder and harder to own Satomobiles after the company shut down, for parts to repair them are few and rare now that they’re no longer being manufactured. 

 

She can hear footsteps outside, and time seems to slow down. 

 

Without thinking to transform, Asami panics. She deletes the browser history, and stands. The lock turns on the door handle, and she rushes into the closet. She could have transformed, but what if Korra had seen her shapeshift?! How could she possibly explain it, and it wasn’t as though she could shift back!

 

The closet door stopped shutting just as the front door burst open and two people pushed through, not even caring about the prior movement in the living room as one pushes the other against the wall. She can see through the crack in the closet doors.

 

Asami should look away, but her eyes are glued. 

Mako pushes Korra against the wall and kisses her, passionate and smirking. The taxi driver seems… less enthusiastic but goes along with it. 

 

“You alright?” Mako asks, as he sets his scarf on the kitchen counter.

 

Korra lets him kiss her neck for a few moments before shaking her head, “Um… no… no… you know what? This may be a bad idea. This  _ is  _ a bad idea.”

 

“You’ve got your mind set on someone else.”

 

She pulls away, moving towards the closet to put her jacket away. 

 

Asami’s heart stops.

 

“Why did you bring me back here, then? To distract yourself? I’m worth more to you than that, come on Korra. If you needed someone to talk to, you could have asked. I don’t want us to blunder through this if we’re not going to be adults about it,” Mako sighs.

 

Korra’s hand rests on the closet door, and she turns. Asami takes the chance and shifts into a cat, wincing at the noise she causes.

 

“Is there an intruder in there?” the bartender smiles.

 

‘Gizmo’ slips out, instinctively rubbing against Korra’s leg before feeling a wave of guilt and choosing to walk towards Naga’s water bowl. Korra puts her coat in the closet and sighs.

 

“Great. She has a new hiding spot. There goes all my work clothes.”

 

“That’s a new pet.”

 

Korra nods, slumping down on the couch and letting the intoxication take her. Unsure of what to do, Asami studies Mako’s expression and body language. He seems both disappointed and relieved, as though he wants to pursue a night with his ex and yet glad that things have not passed a point of no return (especially considering she seems more inebriated than him). 

 

“Should I just go?”

 

Her human cracks open one bleary eye, staring the boy down. Mako nervously stands on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight as he sways. 

 

“I’ll call you, I promise.”

 

The bartender takes that as his cue, and disappears from the apartment without letting Korra see him out. Asami can’t help but wonder what their story is. She jumps up on the couch, but feels hesitant to curl up to Korra after the accident tonight. The arm of the couch suffices.

 

“You’re such a strange thing, you know that?”

 

A grumbling mew.

 

Korra smiles, “I think you would have liked her. She was something else. The prettiest girl in all of Republic City.”

 

_ Really? I’m wearing thrift shop’s fall catalogue, and I haven’t had a haircut in two years. Not to mention the lack of makeup.  _

 

Hands pluck her up as Korra carries her to the bedroom, opening the window (unfortunately there’s a screen on this one), and slowly climbing into bed. Despite the season, the cold air feels so wonderful… it brings a clarity to Asami’s head that she really could have used in the club. She still gives the other woman distance as she curls up at the foot of the bed, but her human doesn’t seem to notice. Korra flops back and stares at the ceiling with a smile.

 

“I wonder if she’ll be back. Is that weird? Maybe that’s weird. I don’t even know why I’m asking you, Giz, you’re a cat. Maybe I’ll ask Jinora what to do… goodnight, hairball.”

 

Asami lets out a purr and fidgets until she’s found the perfect sleeping position. Perhaps… perhaps she’ll visit the bar again, but she must be careful. There’s no shortage of things that could go wrong should Korra learn her secret. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think that the story might be shorter than I was initially planning just because getting around to writing is hard, but that doesn't mean I plan on leaving this!! I am making it up as I go along, so bear with me! I hope you like it!
> 
> Leave comments!

**Author's Note:**

> We'll see what happens with this. It was inspired by a work in another fandom.


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